//------------------------------// // Oops!: 3 // Story: They're home. // by Nameless Narrator //------------------------------// There’s no physical or mental activity inside the High Score Cavern this late into sleepy time with the exception of 99380 whose body is hanging from two strange “meat hooks” protruding from a wall in a larger alcove in the back, piercing a leg hole in one foreleg each. A couple other drones are hanging there in this peculiar position, all peacefully asleep. Despite that, a part of 99380 is somehow still active in the hive mind, sorting through today’s information and categorizing it into what needs to be written down instead of remembering it, what must stay to be easily accessible, and what knowledge should be remembered by specific drones instead. It’s strange to know everything the other drones know, albeit only temporarily, and 99380 occasionally loses all semblance of who it really is, but it always comes back in time. Just like now, when the drone senses 99066 enter the HSC.  The scattered pieces of 99380’s mind return to the owner, and the drone opens its eyes, somehow finding itself relocated directly behind the returning quicktrotter. “Heya, buddy!” it greets 99066 cheerfully but quietly to avoid waking up anyone else. 99066 turns around and gets swallowed by the hive mind, its consciousness being pulled into the pitch black void of the ‘waiting room’ with only a silver circle denoting the floor. To 99380’s surprise, the quicktrotter is carrying a wobbly chunk of green, softly glowing goop on its back that’s slowly shifting like a lava lamp. “Gasp! How did you do that?” 99066 blinks. The problem isn’t the forced hive mind transition, that just happens when one talks to 99380 and doesn’t freak anyone out anymore with the exception of newbies, “One moment, there’s no one behind me and in the next you’re standing there and I didn’t hear anything.” “Sorry,” 99380 scratches its head, “It just kinda happens sometimes. If it helps, I’m pretty sure I was hanging on the hooks when I went to sleep. My back was a bit stiff - it’s too cold and I didn’t do any sweeping for skips this breaky time. I should ask 10k for some more carrying shifts, but you speedy guys are too good at all the carrying jobs and there aren’t many left.” “That’s no problem. Now that we can dig stuff out for 99856’s experiments, we can do some quicktrotting during that. Speaking of stuff for 99856, can we return to the real world?” asks 99066.  The hive mind visualization ends immediately, and both drones return to the HSC where 99066 takes the weird goop off of its back and puts it on the floor where it remains, wobbling. “What’s that?” asks 99380 quietly, “Some new kind of goop?” “I think so,” 99066 scratches its head while briefly explaining how it fell into a hole full of green stuff in the first place, “-and I thought it would eat me but it just wobbled around. It didn’t mind me poking it and neither did the big green mass nor the other small ones, so after my wings dried up again I picked one to show it to the veterans with outside experience,” 99066 pauses, “Wait, you’re a veteran with outside experience!” “Am I?” 99380 ponders it, “Wait, I guess I am. Huh, I never really thought about that,” it looks at the slime slowly moving ahead in a seemingly random direction, “I think you might need a veteran with more inside experience because I don’t have the faintest idea what this might be. Unfortunately, 65536 is camping in the lower tunnels with 99200, 57999 is sleeping in the greenhouse tonight, and 10k… really needs rest. On the subject of-” 99380’s mind wanders again, “-staying outside during sleepy time, should I make a hive mind table where a drone could write they won’t be here so that we don’t worry? You know, 99012 and 99971 were anxious but we didn’t sense any emergency cocoon going off, so they just thought you overdid it with quicktrotting.” “99380?” “I’m here. I’m here. Sorry,” the drone shakes its head, “My mind keeps escaping my thinky ball. I tried gooping my ears once but it didn’t help.” “I know the feeling. I sometimes catch myself just counting steps and not even watching the tunnel while quicktrotting. Are all your thinky parts back here enough to talk about our new green, umm, friend?” “Yep, yep, most bits are here,” 99380 nods, walks over to the slime which managed to move about a hoof’s length away during their conversation, and pokes it. In response, the slime stops and resumes slowly shifting on the spot, “You said there was a cavern full of those under the black-crunchy deposit and nothing bad happened when you dropped inside, right?” “Yup,” 99066 nods, “I accidentally dug through the big blob all around it and even then the green stuff didn’t get mad at me.” “Then I guess it must be a super friend,” 99380 shrugs, “Even digging another drone by accident would earn you a wibble, and in this case it was just a wobble,” it pokes the slime again. It jiggles in response, “We just gotta figure out if it doesn’t eat any of our stuff, but we can wait for 10k with that. Besides, it’s not like it’s too different from us anyway since we’re basically goop with a tougher skin.” “Huh, I didn’t think of it that way,” 99066 ponders it before shrugging, “Seems legit to me. Should I keep it with me during this sleepy time?” “Nah, I´ll watch it,” 99380 shakes its head, “You had an accident so you need rest. How are your wings?” “Stiff and sticky but I can fly a bit.” “Alrighty. I’ll talk to 10k if it doesn’t know anything that might help. We had a washy time on the ship so maybe 99111 can goop us some bubble bricks later.” “Thanks, 99380,” 99066 hugs the other drone, “You’re a nice veteran. Goodnight.” “Goodnight, 99066.” As the quicktrotter leaves for its alcove, 99380 catches up with the slime that started moving again after being poked. It lets its body follow the green blob on autopilot while its mind resumes working. It takes only a moment to make a list with a reminder to all drones to fill it if they intend to spend the sleepy time away from the HSC, link it to 10k and the response team. Aaand done. 99380 looks around. The slime is now moving across the trail of coal dust the quicktrotters made while supplying 99856, leaving behind a significantly cleaner line and showing just how dusty and dirty the floor really is. The drone catches up again and lowers its head to sniff the slime. Hmm, the air around it feels a little more outside-y. I kinda like it. However, as 99380 stands and observes the slime eating coal dust at a glacial pace, it realizes that it’s completely lost regarding what to do about it, if anything. Okay, body. You follow our weird goop friend while I finish the knowledge sorting, got it? 99380’s body, understandably, doesn’t answer. It just slowly sleepwalks next to the slime.  *** Under the lights of the Ponyville train station, a changeling is sitting on a bench, watching the slowly increasing amount of ponies gathering on the platform despite the late time of day. Their activities are a mystery to Smiley, but quite a number of the newcomers stop by one of several stalls to buy what to her smells like noms. The small crowd parts before Night Hunter carrying a tray on a strap around his neck, containing several paper packs and two cups stuck inside the holes by the tray’s edge, more out of respect for his size than for his visible Nightguard badge. He sits down on the bench next to Smiley and, with forelegs finally free, offers Smiley one of the steaming cups. “It’s a drink,” Night Hunter gives her an encouraging smile, “65536 likes it to a frankly unhealthy degree. Don’t worry,” he adds when Smiley raises her tablet, “No trade needed. That, or you can think of it as me adding a little extra for that promised story of yours.” As he’s grown used to, Smiley takes a moment to process the unusual situation, lowers her tablet, and first examines the hole in the tray in which the cup was hanging before gasping. [us!] While she doesn’t explain the quick scribble with more words, she takes the cup and hooks it into a hole in her foreleg, presenting it to Night Hunter with a proud smile. “Heh, this does look like something a changeling would come up with,” Hunter nods, taking a sip from his steaming cup, “Oof, too sweet for me but it sure helps in this cold.” Smiley follows his example and freezes once she drinks the brown liquid revealed to be hot chocolate, only scrunching her muzzle and repeatedly licking her lips. “I assumed you would like it since 65536 always brings full boxes of sweets with it whenever it leaves to visit the hive.” Smiley reacts to Night Hunter’s existence again by quickly moving to write something, almost spilling the chocolate but noticing it in time, and then carefully balancing the slate on her hind legs while writing with her free foreleg: [hot. squishy. love!] “I have more for you,” Hunter slides two of the paper packages to the edge of his tray, “It’s just a hayburger and a hot pocket filled with lightly sweetened applesauce. I normally don’t go for junk food but it helps warm up in this weather.” Smiley ponders the situation. On one hole, there’s this ‘hot chocolate’ thing, on the other, there are two more different, potentially even more delicious noms being presented. This requires some puzzle solving capacity.  Hunter watches as the changeling’s eyes keep darting from the tray to the cup of hot chocolate, and finally to the tablet, before Smiley figures out she can, because of sitting on a bench, use a hole in her hind leg to store the cup while grabbing the nearest paper object from the tray which happens to be the burger. She sniffs it, takes a bite, and Night Hunter facehoofs. Smiley stops and tilts her head. [tasty] “You’re supposed to unwrap it first. The paper isn’t part of the meal,” the bat pony shows Smiley how it’s done. Smiley mimics him but takes a bite from the wrapping again afterwards. [sure? crunchy. smells nice] “That’s from the burger,” Hunter rolls his eyes with a smirk, “You know what? Feel free to eat that too, just do it separately. I’m pretty sure I saw 65536 eat drywall and curtains without any repercussions, and it did say something about a drone who enjoyed eating tree bark.” *NOM!* Seeing Smiley happily chew on the burger wrap, Hunter just smiles. Granted, all this is more to pass time and make sure 65536’s friends don’t miss their train rather than due to some deep interest in the lore of the duo, but it, in his eyes, is somewhat unusual to see drones away from the hive, especially at a time when 65536 is known to come and spend time with them. Also, there’s one question that needs answering first.  “Why do you look like a zebra, Smiley?” Undisturbed, Smiley keeps chewing while writing with the goop stick in its foreleg. [Gem. she. zebra. teach. write.] A couple things click into place. As an elite member of the Nightguard, Night Hunter is aware of Gem and the circumstances of her stay in Canterlot. He’s also aware of the less generally known fact that Gem isn’t a zebra, but a changeling from some faction which doesn’t exactly like interacting with Queen Chrysalis’ hive. On the other hoof, who else to bridge that gap than a silly little drone? Hay, Gem’s friend Three and 65536 nearly gave Gloom an adorability induced heart attack the first time they were in the same room. “Ah, a mentor. Like with 65536 and Sharp Biscuit,” Hunter pats Smiley, “Speaking of 65536, let’s get to the main topic. Why are you here and not in the hive, getting presents from 65536?” Smiley scribbles for a while before showing Hunter a tablet covered entirely in [words]. “Words words words words… it’s a long story?” Smiley nods. Night Hunter looks at the clock. “We have a lot of time to kil- to spend before the express arrives… or before we have to go look for your friend and Gloom. But if you don’t want to trade…” he playfully pulls the unwrapped burger on the tray back to himself.  Smiley opens her mouth mid-chew, reaching for the burger but stopping before touching Hunter. He withdraws his foreleg with a smile. “So, a story?” *Nod Nod Nod!* “There you go.” With the negotiations successfully over and the desired burger released into Smiley’s custody, Hunter prepares for what’s coming. He doesn’t prepare enough, because the first words that Smiley writes are a full sentence which means she’s clearly quoting someone and it’s seared into her memory: [No, not again! You’re not worth the cost of keeping alive.] *** Not even the Ponyville school janitor is on the premises when Gloom arrives at a breakneck gallop, wings spread for stability, with 99999 holding onto her back for dear life, grinning from ear to ear as a drone can. She stops on the playground by the sandbox and lowers her wings, which 99999 takes as a sign it can hop off. By all rights, the drone should be suspicious of a pony carrying it away from Smiley, but this one’s an exception for one simple reason. “Miss Gloom? You’re the first pony who is just radiating love that’s aimed at me. How do you do that?” it asks, standing in the sand. “I dun like big schlong lings, but I like you smol ones,” Gloom tries to boop 99999’s nose and misses, “Shoot, wrong snoot.” “Umm, I only got one, Miss.” “I’m drunksh,” Gloom explains nothing, “It shucks now, but there’s more of ya to love.” “Does this drunksh thing mean you see stuff wrong?” 99999 hazards a guess. “Yup! You’re shmart,” Gloom hugs the drone, “Now letsh see what this playground’sh all about. Yoo can dig here, see?” she digs a hole in the sand. “REALLY?!” 99999’s face lights up, “The Queen said not to do it unless I’m in danger or I get permission.” “Yup, this ish what it’s for,” Gloom nods, “I know how 65536 alwaysh says it misses that. Jush don’t do that thing where yoo poof the dug stuff away.” “Oh… like this?” 99999 just digs a small hole without disintegrating the material, “Weeeeird…” “Yesh! I can hold yer bag if you wanna.” “It’s fine. I’m just gonna dig a bit and see if my hooves stop getting twitchy,” 99999 gets going with a spray of sand, leaving behind a groove, “Wheeee!” “Go you!” One circle around the sandbox later, 99999 stops in front of Gloom and reports: “All done! This isn’t bad, but it’s not proper digging,” it looks from side to side, “What else can we play? I don’t have any Scufflestick tinies with me. Can we play the harmonica?” “We could sch- swing,” Gloom points to a set of swings, “Yoo hop on and I’ll push you.” Despite having trouble understanding Gloom when she can say the same word three times with a slightly different pronunciation, she uses simple directions coupled with a ton of gesticulation which helps 99999 immensely. The amount of love from Gloom does wonders for 99999’s willingness to cooperate too, and after a quick demonstration it sits down onto the piece of wood held by two chains. “What’s this for? How does it swing?” “I’ll show ya. Hold on to the chainsh!” 99999 obediently hooks each chain through a convenient leg hole. “Ready!” Gloom pushes. “Yaaay!” 99999 swings on the swing. “Higher!” yells Gloom, and pushes with all her drunk strength and lack of inhibitions. “Whee- wha?” 99999 makes a full circle and, chained to the swing, slams with the full weight of itself and its bag into Gloom from behind, knocking her to the ground. “Oh no!” it unhooks itself when the movement stops and rushes over, because the bat pony isn’t moving, “Miss Gloom? Miss Gloom!” it shakes her. “Wzhplt!” Gloom wakes up mid-snore, raising her head, “I wanna my own 65536… no need for a guy… or preggo…” “Umm, can’t you just ask the Queen?” 99999 tilts its head, relieved that Gloom seems no worse off than before the impact, “I think someone did just that and that’s why I was sent away from the hive.” “Really?” Gloom shoots up and covers her mouth as her stomach revolves, “Urgh… ‘s not good…” “Are you okay?” “I… ugh… I think I over… eshti… mated ‘self,” she mutters, “Gonna need… Hunty…” she tries to stand up and her legs buckle under her, “S’rry. Can’t play… ‘nymore.”  “Alrighty. Thanks for the funny ride here, Miss Gloom,” 99999 examines her, “Hunty must mean Mister Night Hunter. If not, Smiley will know what to do. Do you want me to take you to the train station, Miss Gloom? As a trade for you carrying me to do some digging.” “Mrgrgrlgrl…”  “I’ll take that as a yes.”